The World Spins
by Ronnie Rocket
Summary: "What is it about fire that's so beautiful? I mean, if you didn't stop it, it'd just go on and on. Burn away lifetimes or something." A collection of short stories exploring the lives and loves of Twin Peaks' many residents before, during, and after the series.
1. Hero Worship

**Title: **The World Spins

**Rating: **M (for language, suggestive themes, and violence)

**Pairings:** Anything's fair game, although there's bound to be plenty of Cooper/Audrey.

**Author: **Ronnie Rocket

**Summary: **"What is it about fire that's so beautiful? I mean, if you didn't stop it, it'd just go on and on. Burn away lifetimes or something." A collection of short stories exploring the lives and loves of Twin Peaks' many residents before, during, and after the series.

**Authors' note:** As stated above, this is a collection of one-shots revolving around any and all of _Twin Peaks'_ most popular characters. It doesn't really have a genre or general theme. After all, _Twin Peaks_ was all over the place. With that in mind, I'm hoping to explore both the friendships and romances of the show's many characters, as well as uncover some of their deepest, darkest secrets. This is actually my first solo story, considering my partner-in-crime just moved to New York to pursue her dream of becoming a publisher. Hopefully, I won't let you guys down.

O-O-O-O

_Chapter One: Hero Worship _

**MARCH 1, 1989 **

Dale Cooper sat at the end of the bed and watched as Audrey Horne's bare knees rubbed and knocked impatiently against one another. "Sometimes, I feel like a cup," she said, reaching forward to grab a French fry. "The trouble is, nobody'll tip me over and let all the beautiful stuff out."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Audrey said, shifting closer to Cooper on the bed. "Maybe I'm making stuff up. Maybe I'm crazy or something."

"You're not crazy," Cooper said, ghosting a hand through his hair. "You're just lonely."

"What about you? Are you lonely?"

For a long moment, Cooper held Audrey's gaze. Then, on an exhale, he said, "Everybody's lonely."

Audrey grabbed another French fry, then rolled over, her schoolgirl thighs parting just enough for Cooper to catch a glimpse of blue cotton. "I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix, because I eat books like salad and stop to smell the grass and all that jazz. I'm a regular freak of nature."

"There's nothing wrong with being a freak of nature."

Audrey smiled so quickly, so secretly, her teeth were but a blur of white. "Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And how would you know?" she asked.

For the first time that night, Cooper inched closer to Audrey on the bed, his little finger brushing inadvertently against the bottom of her dust-powdered foot. "Because I am one."

For several seconds, Audrey sloped forward, her lips parting in anticipation of a kiss. However, before she could cross the plate of French fries that separated them, Cooper made a noise in the back of his throat, and the spell was broken. "I…I speak French," Audrey bleated out, tugging awkwardly at her shirtsleeves.

Before she could embarrass herself any further, Cooper said, "Moi aussi," and, to his delight, Audrey smiled prettily.

"Je suis impressionné," she said, clutching awkwardly at her feet with both hands. "So, you speak French, don't like ketchup on your fries, and are a self-proclaimed freak of nature. Anything else I should know about you?"

"Anything else you'd like to know?"

Audrey chewed thoughtfully on her underlip. "How old are you?"

"Too old for you," Cooper said, popping a French fry into his mouth. "Next question."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Fine. Where were you born?"

"Philadelphia."

"And did you like it there?"

Cooper shrugged. "It was all right."

"Just all right?"

"Well, it was awfully cold," he replied, holding Audrey's gaze with those great, moony eyes of his. "I have asthma, you see, and Philadelphia's not exactly known for its mild winters."

Audrey pulled her knees up to her chest, and Cooper tried very hard not to look at the yellowish-violet bruise on her left thigh. "Huh," she murmured, winding a soft curl around one finger. "I never would have guessed. I mean, your breathing sounds very…_strong."_ Suddenly, involuntarily, Audrey blanched, her face brighter than snow in the moonlight. "So, what made you want to become an FBI agent?" she asked.

For a moment, Cooper regarded Audrey with a look of pale surprise. "You know," he said, shifting closer to her on the bed, "in all my years with the Bureau, you're the first person to ask me that question."

"Really?"

Cooper nodded. "Funny, isn't it?"

"Hysterical," said Audrey.

"Well, life can be like that sometimes."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, with a sort of gentle hunger that knocked Cooper's heart out of its groove, Audrey said, "Why do I feel like I've known you my whole life?"

The answer came to him more naturally than breathing. "Because I like you, and I don't want anything from you."

At that precise moment, Audrey's smile could have melted snow. "I'm a virgin, you know? If I were a bar of soap, I'd still be wrapped in my package."

"I know."

"You…you do?"

"Yes," Cooper said, smiling at the slight change in the rhythm of her respiration. "And I think it's very admirable. You're a neat girl, Audrey, and you deserve someone who'll love you as though he's about to drop dead in ten seconds."

Audrey looked as if she might cry. "You know something, Agent Cooper? You're not like the others. When I talk, you look at me. No one does that."

"Well," Cooper said, "that's because I'm interested in what you have to say."

Audrey smiled, her dream-blue gaze never flinching. "I'm interested in what you have to say, too."

It was the truth, and they both knew it.

O-O-O-O

**A/N:** Well, there you have it...the first chapter of what I hope will be an ongoing story. If you enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it, drop me a line. After all, I love chatting with fellow _Twin Peaks_ fans, and am always open to suggestions for upcoming chapters. Plus - not gonna lie - reviews are one hell of a creative catalyst!

**Ronnie Rocket **


	2. Wanted, Wanted: Laura Palmer

**Title: **The World Spins

**Rating: **M (for language, suggestive themes, and violence)

**Pairings:** Anything's fair game, although there's bound to be plenty of Cooper/Audrey.

**Author: **Ronnie Rocket

**Summary: **"What is it about fire that's so beautiful? I mean, if you didn't stop it, it'd just go on and on. Burn away lifetimes or something." A collection of short stories exploring the lives and loves of Twin Peaks' many residents before, during, and after the series.

**Author's note:** So, first off, I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this update. I had planned on posting a new chapter last week, but my big brother and his high school girlfriend decided to get married in Vegas, effectively monkey-wrenching my plans within an inch of their life. Anyway, this chapter is about Ben and Laura, a couple (?) that I've always found fascinating, if not a bit disturbing.

O-O-O-O

_Chapter Two: Wanted, Wanted: Laura Palmer_

**AUGUST 26, 1987 **

The air was sticky, and the sun hung like a red ball in the sky over Twin Peaks. It was just past four in the afternoon, and Ben Horne was all too ready to turn in. After all, he'd had a very busy day; breakfast with Sylvia and the mongrels at eight, golf with the board at eleven, cocktails with the Swedes at two-thirty, and now this: a mind-numbing regurgitation of upcoming investment meetings with Leland and Jerry.

Ben let out a sigh. Sometimes, being the biggest fish in the town watering hole was a tiresome job.

"So, it's decided," said Leland. "We'll send Jerry to Gothenburg in September."

"Excellent."

Leland raised his tumbler to Ben before taking a long sip of whatever gooey, pink concoction Jerry had brought back from France. "Now, I talked to the investors this morning, and they assured me that they're ready to sign as soon as we can get Jerry here on a plane."

Ben tried to smile, but his mouth refused to curve correctly. Thankfully, the others didn't seem to notice. No; they were far too busy staring at some object, some person, just beyond their table.

"Hi, Daddy."

Only that voice, that perfectly modulated voice, had the ability to spark Ben's nerve endings, to light the hell furnace of bottled-up lust hidden deep within his loins.

_Laura. _

He placed an unlit cigar between his dry lips and turned to the girl, who stood at the periphery of the table, her right hand holding her left arm behind her back with disturbing modesty. "Miss Palmer," he said, reaching for a match and striking it coolly against the tabletop, "I didn't expect to see you back here so early."

"Well," she said, peering at him over the top of her too-big sunglasses, "Mrs. Horne wanted to go to shopping in Seattle this afternoon, so I offered to watch Johnny." She flashed a quick smile that showed off the perfect candy-whiteness of her teeth before turning to her father. "Daddy, can I have some money for ice-cream?"

Leland beamed. "Of course, sweetheart."

Then, everything went hazy. At least, everything that wasn't Laura. She was the center of the universe, the reason for every good thing that had ever come into being. She was Helen of Troy. She was the siren on the rock. She was Lolita. And as she reached a small, white hand across his chest, Ben couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to throw her, facedown, onto the table and lick every pore and follicle of her soft, pubescent body.

"Thanks."

The sound of Laura's voice, so syrupy and sweet, shook Ben from his reverie. She had no idea what she did to him, and it was likely she never would. Unless…

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me for a moment…"

Ben rose from the table before either of his cohorts could answer, the slow, bobbing walk of Laura Palmer still vibrating along his optic nerve. He stalked into the hotel lobby just as the white whisper of her ankle rounded a nearby corner. He raced after it.

"Laura!"

The toes of her oxfords turned inward as she spun around to face him. "Yes, Mr. Horne?"

Ben struggled to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time to discuss Johnny's progress." It was more of a statement than a question, and Laura caught on quickly.

"Of course," she said, and Ben was sure he could hear the lust in her voice. "After you, Mr. Horne."

Ben said nothing, simply pushed her softness back into the room and slammed the door behind them. "Laura, Laura, Laura," he said, his head bursting with love-ache. "What am I going to do with you?"

Breathless came her reply: "Whatever you want."

Before Ben could respond, Laura pealed off her cardigan, shook her gemmed hair, and planted both palms flush against his desk. "I suggest starting with the skirt. It sticks a little sometimes."

Ben stared at Laura. There was something in her expression that he'd never seen on anyone's face before. It filled him with perverse delight. "You are quite a creature, my dear."

He closed the distance between them in two easy steps, his hands falling effortlessly into her long, yellow hair. She tried to slink away, but he was too quick, tightening his fists around two, thick bunches and forcing her head back with barely-controlled aggression. "Ah, ah, ah…you're not getting away that easy," he sneered. "Not after all that teasing you did."

She stood and blinked, cheeks aflame, hair awry, before opening her mouth to speak. "You're a dirty, old man!" she cried, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "And I'm just an innocent, little girl."

Ben scoffed. "Don't you try and fool me, missy," he said, his voice dripping with mock derision. "We both know the only virgin in _this_ room is the wool on that sweater of yours." He pointed a finger at Laura's discarded cardigan, which looked more like a melted scoop of sherbet than a sweater, all balled up on the floor.

"Maybe your right," Laura cooed. "But there's only one way to know for sure."

Ben shivered with glee as his hands slithered out of Laura's hair and came to rest on the small, red buttons that lined her frock. "You know," he said, pushing the top one through its tiny hole, "I really do like a woman with a body like yours who talks like she can fuck into next Sunday."

With a strangled moan, Laura grabbed Ben by his Winsor knot and fused their mouths together. He could feel her spine curve beneath his fingertips as his knee pushed against the juncture of a winter-bleached thigh. She wanted him. It was impossible to hide. He could literally feel the heat of her arousal as it stained, hot and sticky, against his pant leg. She was feeding off of him, squirming like an overanxious toddler, and it made him want to…

Knock, Knock, Knock.

A steady rhythm of knuckles played against the door.

"Daddy? Daddy, it's Audrey. Can I come in?"

Ben slammed his fist against the desktop. "For God's sake, Audrey, what is it now?"

"It's Johnny. I can't get him to stop crying." She made a small, sniffling noise. "He keeps asking for Laura, only I can't find her."

Laura's eyes swelled with laughter.

"Fine," Ben sighed. "I'll be right out." Before he left, he turned back to Laura. "Don't you move. We're not finished here."

She smiled. "No…we're not."

O-O-O-O

**A/N:** You know the drill, ladies and gentlemen: If you enjoyed this chapter, drop me a line. I'd love to hear from you (really, I would). Plus, as I've said before, reviews are one hell of a creative catalyst!

**Ronnie Rocket **


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